


a long journey home

by Navyrants



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person, Technically a soulmate AU, it kind of went off the rails though, light descriptions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 16:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20781995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navyrants/pseuds/Navyrants
Summary: For a long time, Riko thought she was the only person in the world without a soulmark.





	a long journey home

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be something entirely different when i started it, but as many things do it sort of developed a life of its own. i didn't spend too much time editing it, so if the tone or themes seem inconsistent it's because i've been writing this for two months and i just wanted to be done with it already. enjoy!

There are a few things you know for sure about the world.

The first is that everyone has a soulmark. Everyone you have ever met has some inky strokes on their body that somehow, some way, symbolize their destined partner. Sometimes just their name, sometimes the first--or in worst case scenarios, last--words they'll speak to you, sometimes an image that represents them. The universe likes to switch it up.

The second is that having a destined partner does not guarantee that you will be happy. Sure, your parents started off alright, but you're convinced that even destined relationships are sometimes meant to be temporary. To the point where at times you catch yourself thinking they shouldn't have stayed together long enough to have you. Well, nothing for it now.

The one thing you have absolutely never, ever heard of is someone  _ not _ having a mark. As much as you profess yourself a totally normal girl, you're exactly the opposite. Unique in the worst way.

Your classmates snicker behind your back. The ones that don't laugh, pity you. You can never tell which is worse.

Your parents are fighting every night over your pathetic state, among other things. Over a school break she sends you down to a sleepy seaside town for a little vacation while they finalize the divorce. And you meet a girl.

Not your soulmate, of course--you don't have one of those. She does, though, and excitedly shows you her mark and talks about...well, she's babbling a little too fast for you to really process, but then she asks to see  _ yours, _ and you almost blunder. Almost tell her you don't have one. Almost open yourself up to ridicule all over again.

You're thankful that after a moment of awkward silence, she moves on with her aimless rambling. She's talking about school idols now, which of course you've heard of given that you attend Otonokizaka, but you don't really know much beyond the basics. You give her a half-hearted shrug about it, and she gasps like she can't believe someone wouldn't want to devote their entire life to idols.

It's a strange encounter, to say the least.

When you move to that sleepy little town with your mother a month later, you really shouldn't be surprised that you end up in her class. You should be even less surprised that she latches onto you instantly, begging you to compose idol songs for her.

What  _ is _ surprising is how little you mind that, deep down. You still shoot her down, of course, but it's not her that's the problem. It's her friend who stares at you, and you can just tell she's scanning for your mark.

They eventually wear you down, though, and you suppose you'll just have to deal with the anxiety of Yō inevitably finding out you're Unmarked.

Especially when you find out she's the costume department.

She’s taking your measurements for your first concert and you get to watch the realization wash over her, your own anxiety and dread rising to high tide. You swallow thickly and pray she won’t say anything, pray she’ll just quietly pity you, but--

“You too?” She says it so softly you almost don’t even hear her.

For a few moments there’s no sound except your heart pounding in your ears, but then the two of you are all clasped hands and watery giggles, rejoicing in the long-overdue knowledge that you’re not  _ alone. _

It’s such an unbelievable relief that you can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re still half naked. For years you’d thought you were the only one, that even making friends would always be an exercise in deceit. Instead, here she is in front of you, a kindred soul.

_ (Way too cheesy, _ a voice in the back of your mind chastises, but at the moment you couldn’t care less. You let yourself have your overdone manga tropes just for a little while.)

After a bit, you both wipe your eyes and get back to business, but this time as she presses the tape measure against your skin she’s chattering about how she, like you, thought she was the only one.

“...And like…” Yō sighs, dropping her notepad off to the side. “Falling in love really sucks, right?” You flush. You don’t think you’ve ever really been in love, but you can definitely see what she’s getting at, so you give her a sympathetic nod.

You don’t even have to ask who she’d fallen in love with. You’ve seen the way she follows Chika around; caught all the longing looks and a few forlorn sighs. But Chika has a soulmate.

For a moment, your heart aches for Yō, but then she’s back to smiling and joking as you pull your shirt back on. That’s something you really admire about her, and you really have to wonder how she does it so well.

From that day the two of you are nearly inseparable. Chika’s a little confused at the suddenness, but doesn’t really question it too much. After all, what’s there to complain about?

* * *

You're putting the finishing touches on Guilty Kiss's second song, Yō beside you hand-stitching a few details into a new costume, when the door to the club room slams open. You jump, and judging from the string of curses to your left, Yō is just as startled.

Yoshiko stands in the doorway bent over and panting, clearly having run the whole way here.

"Dude, you made me stab myself!" Yō complains, brandishing her needle. Yoshiko only holds up a finger to say she needs a moment, seemingly unbothered by the seamstress's injury.

"You're not here for the song, are you? It's not finished yet, I'm still--"

_ "I heard you two are unmarked." _

You and Yō are both stunned into silence. After fully catching her breath, Yoshiko carefully closes the door behind her and then drops into a seat nearby and continues her thought.

"Sorry, Chika told me, because I kinda thought you two were soulmates, but she said you don't have marks. Is that really true?" An intense, uncomfortable stare follows this question, her body angled steeply towards you. You swallow hard.

Yō gingerly sets her sewing aside, throws you a concerned glance that you're too frozen to return, and then offers a soft confirmation. Somehow this makes Yoshiko  _ more _ intense.

"Can I see?" It's less a question and more a demand. You frown.

"She just said there's nothing to see."

"But like, there's really nothing? You've checked everywhere? Not even a super tiny one? What about on your back, have you--" Yō reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back into her seat as she'd started to rise out of it. 

"You need to chill out." The fallen angel frowns and slumps back, arms crossed sullenly.

"Give me a break. What are the chances of there being three of us in one place?"

It takes a moment to process.

"Three?" You question.

_ "Us?!" _ Yō exclaims.

And that's the day your duo becomes three.

* * *

Leah is Ruby's soulmate, and from what you hear, she's doing her best to ignore it. Of course, you feel bad for Ruby, but at the moment you're focused on a downtrodden Yō.

“I can’t believe I snapped at her like that,” she groans into her arms, face-down on the table in your room. You rub her back lightly. Apparently Ruby had gone to her for comfort, and in a fit of frustration over her own soulmate situation, well…

You know she’s in the wrong here, but you find it hard to blame her. Sometimes you can’t help but feel bitter at all the people around you who  _ have _ soulmates. You are surprised to find her voicing that sort of thing, though--even you didn’t know she felt so envious of soulmarks, so she must have buried it pretty deep.

“It definitely wasn’t the best response,” you agree after a moment. “But I also get it. It’s frustrating hearing about nothing but soulmarks when we don’t have them.”

She sighs heavily and leans over, head resting on your shoulder and pouting up at you.

“It’s just not fair, you know? That they get this destined happy ending and we don’t.” That gives you pause, and you let out a neutral hum to buy yourself a little time before you respond.

“Soulmates aren’t exactly a guarantee, though.” Yō blinks at you and you have to look away. “My, um...my parents were soulmates, but my dad…” Your hand slides off her back, finding its pair in your lap and twisting in the hem of your shirt. “My dad’s not a good person. They’re divorced now.”

You surprise even yourself a little with the bluntness of the statement, but you suppose it does the job. Part of you wishes you could bring yourself to go into more detail, if only to get it off your chest, but that can wait for another time.

She stares at you for a second before sitting back and blowing out a puff of air, fingers combing roughly through her hair.

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

Both of you are quiet for a few long moments as she finishes processing what you’ve told her. You simply sit and watch her hands fiddle with the ends of her hair, making and unwinding short braids repeatedly or brushing at her bangs as she thinks. It’s something you recognize from her bouts of pre-live jitters, where you’ve often taken it upon yourself to distract her--or at least physically restrain her--so she doesn’t mess up her look before you even hit the stage.

“I think that’s actually kind of a relief to hear?” Yō finally continues, much quieter. “Part of me… I dunno, I guess I was worried I’d done something to deserve this, but if a bad person still gets a soulmate, then it probably has nothing to do with what kind of person you are, right?” You hum again, in agreement this time, and reach for her hand.

“I feel extra bad about what I said to Ruby now, though,” she adds with a frown. “Like, she really might never get together with Leah?”

“...Yeah,” you confirm softly. “Otherwise people wouldn’t really have free will, would they?”

She slumps against you again.

“How the hell am I gonna apologize for this?” You smile and squeeze her hand.

“You could always write a song?” Yō laughs and nudges your shoulder.

“That’s your solution to everything.”

She decides to go along with it anyway. She ends up staying over at your house, the two of you working well into the night. Yō is one of the more ameteur lyricists in the group, so you have to coach her a little bit, but in the end you’re both pleased with the results. In fact, you’d say it’s one of your favorite songs you’ve ever composed for.

* * *

Your first live as subunits. Normally, you're a little more calm before a show, but normally you're holding Yō's hands to keep her from running them through her hair and messing it up. Which conveniently also tames your own nerves, of course.

But she's preparing with CYaRon right now, and Mari is triple- and quadruple-checking with the techies about Guilty Kiss's set, and Yohane--well. She's here, but she's going on some melodramatic monologue about the hordes of little demons that have come to see her tonight. The talk of large crowds doesn't really help with your anxiety.

(Part of you distractedly wonders if someone else is holding Yō's hands right now. You try not to care.)

Your hands find all the edges of your outfit, but a valiant effort on your part keeps you from picking at the stitches you know Yō and Ruby worked so hard on. It's not the one you wore for the cover photoshoots; that one was much too simple to wear during a live. On this one the upper part emulates a tuxedo, though you still have the flaring, ruffled skirt to match Yoshiko and Mari. You worry that it looks weird on you, even though you like it, and you definitely trust Yō's fashion sense. You're just not sure you're really pulling it off.

You're halfway to convincing yourself that all the fans are going to hate your outfit and also everything else about you when Yō finds your little anxiety corner. She rounds you and the still-monologuing Yohane up and sits you down in a couple of spare chairs.

She takes both of your hands--yours and Yoshiko's--and something clicks in the back of your head.

"You two need to chill," she says, as if her hair isn't still slightly mussed despite, you're sure, Ruby's attempts to fix it.

"Yohane," she turns to face Yoshiko alone, but never lets go of your hand. "Relax. You know your charm on-stage is unbeatable. You've got this." You hear the fallen angel inhale slowly, and see her nod out of the corner of your eye. Then Yō turns to you.

"Riko, you know you're gonna have a blast once you get started. Don't worry about anyone else right now, just try to start getting into it!" It's probably more from the way she squeezes your hand and beams at you, but the knot of tension in your stomach does unwind a bit. You offer her a sheepish smile, but… you're honestly happy she can read you so well. It's nice to be understood.

You look again to her hands, linked with the both of you, then reach over to take Yoshiko's and complete the circle.

_ That _ , you think, is how you always want it to be.

* * *

Adjusting to classes at Numazu High School is an effort, and even though you all mutually agreed to continue as Aqours, sometimes a glum feeling still overtakes your meetings at the absence of the former third-years.

Every now and then, it gets bad enough that Chika calls practice early, telling you that you’ll be back at it twice as hard after a good night’s rest. The truth is that your activities don’t have the same frantic vibe they used to. You’re not particularly trying to win Love Live, though of course it would still be nice, and the subunits have dissolved in the wake of graduation so there’s a lot less work in general. 

Most of those days, you go home with Yoshiko or Yō. You rarely do anything in particular, simply content to exist in the same room until it’s time for you to leave. It’s a comfortable sort of monotony.

You can’t help but start to feel isolated, though. Kanan, Dia, and Mari are gallivanting around the world together in what will probably be the world’s longest honeymoon (though they’re not  _ technically _ married yet). Things are going well between Ruby and Leah--sometimes the former yawns her way through morning practice due to a late night video call with her soulmate. Chika and Hanamaru are glued at the hip, only apart when they absolutely have to be.

In short, they all spend most of their time with their soulmates. You feel guilty asking any of them to talk or hang out, because what if you’re interrupting? As lonely as it gets, you’d never want to get between any of the couples.

In any case, you still have your unmarked friends. Now more than ever you’re grateful to know you’re not alone in this affliction.

(You try not to think of it as one, but a cloud has been hovering over you lately. It’s hard not to be a little pessimistic.)

The worst of it is, that tiny voice in the back of your head--the one that made you feel so hopeless when you first moved here--is back full-force, trying to convince you of all sorts of untrue things. But you’re doing alright with ignoring it for now, and you don’t really want to worry anyone...it’s okay if you keep it to yourself, right?

* * *

You start to regret going back to Tokyo for college almost immediately.

That’s not to say you don’t like your classes, or your teachers, or your classmates, or even your dorm room and roommate. It’s just that your life feels so  _ boring _ without the rest of Aqours around, even if you’d always felt slightly displaced with them. Somehow, without you realizing it, they’d become as much your home as any other place had ever been.

It’s a devastating realization in that it only comes in the wake of absence.

In addition to how much you miss them, That Voice is still around, telling you that they’re better off without you. The worst part is that in some ways, it’s winning. At the very least, it’s wearing you down and making it hard to function.

The feeling of needing those who don’t even want you, even when it’s completely fabricated, is not a good one.

You feel pathetic. You feel tired. Most of all, you feel lonely, despite living in the dorm with a roommate.

(Not that your roommate is a very comforting presence to begin with. Soon after you moved in, she’d asked you if you were “always this mopey,” to which you could only reply with a tight smile.)

September rolls around in the blink of an eye. You’re keeping up with your school work, but just barely. You’ve started to drop off talking to your friends. You’re not sure how you manage it but you somehow feel both guilty and relieved about it, that small part of you still convinced they prefer things this way. You just hope they’re not worried about you

Yō and Yohane show up at your door bright and early on a Thursday morning, arms laden with bags from some corner store they must have passed on the way. 

“Happy birthday!” Yō beams and Yoshiko shuffles her feet awkwardly, embarrassed, but she offers you a small, warm smile when you blink at them.

“Is it really…?” You look around for your phone to check the date and Yō laughs at you.

“You actually forgot?” You sputter in embarrassment before ushering them into your room. Thankfully, your roommate is in class at the moment.

Yoshiko puts her bags down and casts her eyes about your side of the room, immediately wandering over to where you’ve got your simple electric keyboard set up on your unmade bed, papers scattered haphazardly around it. She presses a key on it before turning to pick up one of the several empty water bottles on your nearby desk. You’re suddenly very conscious of the few dirty clothes you have scattered on the floor.

“Damn, Lily, you didn’t used to be this messy.” Your cheeks flare up and you’re about to retort, but then she looks up at you earnestly and asks, “Are you okay?” The way her eyes bore into you has you deflating in an instant. You want to tell her you’re fine, that she shouldn’t worry about it, but all you can do is shake your head helplessly.

Yō drops her bags and guides you towards your bed, working with Yoshiko to shuffle your work off to the side for the moment and then pull you down onto the covers, both of them wrapping their arms tightly around you.

The floodgates open.

They cling to you as you cry, making neither judgements nor promises. They just let you be, and soon enough the tears peter out, leaving you sniffling.

The sailor is the first to speak, rubbing your back lightly.

“What’s going on, Riko?” She squeezes your hand. You curl into yourself.

“We want to help,” Yohane offers.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Take a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid,” you try, a little louder. “It’s just--I miss you all so much, but I was never really--I don’t think I belonged there?” Another sniffle. “I just can’t help feeling like...you wouldn’t even notice if I’m gone.” Yō pulls back a bit.

“Did we do something…?” You shake your head violently. Yoshiko stares at you for a long moment.

“Have you ever thought about, like...therapy?” You blink at her a bit. The thought had never really occurred to you. “This just looks a lot like depression to me, that’s all.” She glances away and scratches her cheek, worried you’ll take offense.

You’re quiet for a while as you process what she’s said. You’ve never even thought to question whether there might be a  _ reason _ you get like this. You just assumed it was some core flaw that you’d never truly be rid of. The thought that you could, eventually, unlearn it completely--or at least understand why it happens--is heartening to say the least.

“Do you think that’d help?” You ask quietly. Surprisingly, Yō’s the one who answers.

“It depends on the therapist. I had to try a few times to find one that worked for me.”

“You have a therapist?” She giggles a little at your shock.

“Yeah, it turns out I actually have like, a personality disorder? We spent a long time in high school working on my jealousy.” Her smile flickers sadly. “I’m...sure you remember how I was.”

You do. All the way up until she had to take your measurements for the costumes, she had been cold, on a few occasions nearly cruel, towards you. Once she found out you were also unmarked, though, it was like a switch had flipped. It had confused you and everyone around you, but at the time you were just happy to accept an ally in a soulmate-obsessed world.

“I have one for my social anxiety,” Yohane offers. That doesn’t surprise you as much, both because you were fully aware of her anxiety and because you’d noticed her improving over the years.

“I can go with you until you’re comfortable going by yourself,” says Yō. “It’s pretty scary the first couple times.” You stare down at your hands in your lap.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” comes the quick reply. “I’m offering, because you’re my friend and I care about you.”

Another long silence passes. As much as you hate it, it's so hard to accept help. Even when you know you need it.

"I'll think about it," you finally relent, making a mental note to bring it up with your mother later. She'll need to be part of this decision, too.

"I guess that's good enough for now," Yoshiko says reluctantly. "Anyway, we brought a whole bunch of snacks and movies and they're totally going to waste right now." You let out a heavy sigh.

"I really appreciate it, but I have class today." Something occurs to you, and you point your finger at the fallen angel accusatorily. " _ You _ have class today!"

Yō laughs as Yohane throws her hands up defensively. The sailor puts a calming hand on your shoulder, trying to placate you.

"C'mon, Riko, it's fine just this once, right? I mean, today is  _ super _ important and we missed you  _ so _ much!" For good measure, she widens her eyes and pouts at you, and you feel your resolve melting a little.

"Yeah, I--we--that is, uh…" Yoshiko struggles for words for a moment. "Yō's been really down without you lately, so…"

Well, she at least  _ attempted _ to be honest, so you try not to laugh. If a small snort escapes you, no one acknowledges it.

"Fine," you agree, smiling at each of them softly. "Just this once."

* * *

You’re nineteen years old in your second year of university studying music in the tiny apartment you share with Yoshiko, now a theatre student. Yō sleeps on the couch in between her sailor training, and Chika and Hanamaru visit on the weekends sometimes, usually dragging you out to explore Tokyo. Ruby and Leah are professional idols together while Kanan, Mari, and Dia are still traveling the world. You’re going to therapy every other week, and on your bad days you know Yoshiko (and Yō, when she’s there) will drop everything to help you--and you do the same for them.

You’re still in touch with all of them and you finally feel like you belong with them, instead of being on the outside looking in.

It’s one evening when you’re sitting on the couch with Yoshiko playing video games to your right and Yō scrolling through social media to your left, a stray cat Yoshiko has yet to rehome rumbling away on your lap, when something you first realized years ago strikes you again. And this time, you have the courage to voice it.

“I want to be like this forever,” you murmur, a serene smile on your face. They both look up at you curiously, Yoshiko absently tapping the pause button on her game. “The three of us, I mean,” you clarify. You’d expected to be more anxious, talking to them about this, but you’re not at all.

“What, like--” Yoshiko waves her hand at the apartment around you. “Living together?”

“Well, yes, but I meant more in general.” You rub your fingers over the cat’s ears and smile as he mews up at you. “Being together. Whatever that means to you.” Yō sets her phone aside and leans towards you.

“It can mean whatever?” You blush a little bit, but nod. “So if we said we wanted to date…?”

_ “Date?!” _ Yoshiko squeaks. Your whole face feels red now, though you try to hide it by burying it in the cat’s soft tummy and listening to the renewed burst of purring.

“I’d like that,” you confirm quietly. “But I’m also alright with how we are now.” You feel more than see the excited way Yō bounces in her seat, reaching across your back to grab for Yohane’s hand.

“What about you, Yoshiko?”

“Wh--what  _ about _ me?” You can hear the embarrassment in her voice.

“Do you want that?” And the smile in Yō’s. Yoshiko splutters for a few moments, flustered beyond words. You lean back a little, somewhat calmer now that the focus isn’t on you, and you can feel their hands linked behind you. It’s nice. The fallen angel--though she does that less these days, it’s still part of her--finally manages to get ahold of herself.

“Yeah, whatever. That’d be cool, I guess.” Any attempt at indifference is completely ruined by the sheer redness of her face and the way she refuses to meet either of your eyes. Yō drags you both into a tight hug, overjoyed. The three of you stay that way long enough for the cat to get bored at the lack of attention, giving a long stretch before hopping out of your lap to find one of the toys you keep around the apartment.

Yoshiko’s the one to break the silence.

“Can we keep the cat, too?” She pulls back with a hopeful look. Yō laughs as you heave an exaggerated sigh. Still, you can’t help but smile fondly.

“...I’ll talk to our landlord tomorrow.” She throws her arms around your shoulders and presses a kiss to your cheek. Your own arms wrap easily around her waist and when you hazard a flustered glance at Yō, she’s grinning broadly at the two of you.

Definitely, definitely how you always want it to be.

That night you fall asleep sandwiched between them on your pull-out couch while watching movies, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn forgotten on the side table.

When you wake, there’s a weight against your back and a sandpapery texture on your face that you soon register as the cat’s tongue. You’re too sluggish to move for a few moments, so Yō ends up beating you to the punch, lifting him up and away.

“Let’s go, buddy,” she murmurs to him as she carries him presumably to the kitchen to give him his breakfast. You’re not terribly surprised that she was already awake--you know by now that she’s very much a morning person. 

You, on the other hand, snuggle deeper into the pillows, enjoying the weight of Yohane’s arm thrown across your middle and her face pressed between your shoulderblades.

(She’ll deny it to hell and back, but she’s a clingy sleeper--something you love about her.)

You step back into the apartment to find the cat darting after a toy as Yohane moves it tantalizingly in front of him. Yō looks up from watching them play.

“What’s the word, Riko?” You smile at her.

“Nothing too bad, just a small deposit. I went ahead and paid it.” Yoshiko throws her fists up in celebration, cat toy dangling in the air.

“You know what this means?” She asks, probably rhetorically.

“Your next paycheck is going to be spent entirely on treats and toys?” You tease. The actress-in-training pouts up at you.

“No! It means we get to name him. You don’t let me do that with strays anymore.”

“Because you always end up crying your eyes out when you finally have to rehome them,” Yō butts in. Yoshiko sticks out her tongue petulantly.

“Fallen angels don’t cry.” You roll your eyes and make your way over to where the cat is crouching, off to the side of the couch. “Whatever,” she huffs after a pointed silence. “Got any ideas?”

Now, this is the perfect opportunity to, pardon your French, fuck with Yohane. You pretend to consider the problem for a moment.

“We could just name him Kuro,” you offer as you reach out and scratch his dark-furred ears. He purrs happily, clearly not bothered by the name. Your girlfriend, however, scoffs.

“You’re joking, right? We’re not naming him  _ black. _ ”

“Not a fan, hm?” You pause again for effect. “What about Yoru, then?”

“ _ Night? _ That’s just as bad! He needs a name befitting a fallen angel’s familiar!” She strikes one of her old familiar poses, somehow more dramatic now that she has some theatre experience under her belt. You stifle a giggle.

“Aw, I thought that one was cute. Okay, this time I’ve got it for sure.” She eyes you suspiciously, but you just give her a sweet smile. “Kage.” She puffs out her cheeks indignantly.

“Now I  _ know _ you’re just messing with me. Be serious, Lily! This is important!” A burst of giggles escapes you and you can’t help but reach out and pinch her cheek.

“But you’re so cute right now~” She tries to swat your hand away but you redouble your efforts. “How could I resist?”

“Cut it out!” She whines. “What happened to shy Lily? I miss her.” You laugh and pull her into a loose hug, dropping the teasing act. She continues to huff for a bit before giving in and letting you hold her. “We still need to name him, you know.”

Yō leans over the arm of the couch and stretches her hand out for the cat to sniff.

“What about Susu?” Yohane frowns.

“Why Susu?”

“Don’t you think he kinda looks like a soot sprite from Spirited Away?”

You and Yohane both turn to regard him, and you have to admit the way his fur poofs out when he loafs does cast a striking resemblance. The fallen angel, who you know has a terrible soft spot for that movie, slowly nods.

“I guess that’s an alright name…” The sailor grins triumphantly.

“Now that that’s settled, why don’t we see about lunch?” They both hum in agreement, Yohane jumping to suggest pizza as always while Yō insists that she can just cook something. You’re not sure what she’d make, considering she used the last of quite a few things between dinner last night and breakfast this morning, so you side with your younger girlfriend on this one.

You place the order, and then the three of you huddle up under a blanket to ward off the midwinter chill. Even Susu tries to leach your body heat, a warm mound of fur on your lap.

Life is good. You have two girlfriends and a cat and you don’t feel alienated from your friends at all.

Who needs a soulmark to be happy?

**Author's Note:**

> Kage means shadow, by the way.


End file.
